The World His Apple
by Mana Angel
Summary: While the god of death gorges on fruit, the human he's chosen to associate with wonders what it's like to be consumed. [Dubiously onesided RaitoRyuuku]


Unapologetically plotless. I lost track of DN right around about chapter 20, so present canon is effectively being ignored, here (not to mention this was written almost two years ago). It's RaitoRyuuku in an odd, underhanded way.

Out of personal preference, I'm maintaining use of the names Raito and Ryuuku -- apologies if this bothers you.

**The World His Apple**

_a shameless Death Note PWP by Mana Angel_

Raito watches Ryuuku devour the fruit in his _(claws)_ hands, wickedly sharp _(fangs)_ teeth crunching through yellow flesh and delicately shredding tough russet peel before the god of death swallows. Ryuuku hardly breathes between bites; this Raito knows from avid, long-term observation, information gleaned from the first few _(hundred)_ times he's watched the shinigami eat.

Apples seem to be all Ryuuku eats, in fact, and if Raito were a friendlier boy, a nicer one, or if they were both maybe normal people and he was trying to get on his good side - well. He'd crack a joke about Ryuuku turning red and round and _(sweet and hard and)_ glossy, and maybe even mimic his mother's 'concerned' voice, because _'Don't you know you're what you eat?'_

But Raito is not friendly, nice, or normal, and he certainly wouldn't be caught being motherly to anyone. What he does do, however, is quietly nudge the trashcan closer to Ryuuku with a slipper-clad foot. He knows of the other's tendency to disgorge apple seeds at peculiar times of day _(once he woke to the shinigami retching by his ear, an event as unpleasant as the summer he'd spent at his grandfather's farm to find the barn cat giving birth on his pillow - and which resulted in a severe lecture, an injunction to use the trashcan next time, a long cold shower, and a string of unflattering expletives. Not exactly in that order)._, shrunken, withered organs somehow sorting through the barrage of fruit for the indigestible seeds and then prompting him to vomit them out.

The fact that Ryuuku vomits, and more, makes sound doing it, surprises Raito. On the other hand, the fact that he is utterly unabashed about bodily functions doesn't surprise Raito _at all_. If Ryuuku were a little less fresh, a little less contemplative about the human world, Raito is certain that he'd be part of the high-kicking, fight-starting gangs, with their loud hair _(Ryuuku's would be purple)_ and their turf wars _(he suspects the shinigami wouldn't be so keen on that, if his departure from the Spirit World was any clue)_. Raito can even see human-Ryuuku on a motorbike, all pale skin and spikes and a skull motif on everything.

At the mental image, the boy barks a short, sharp laugh, and the sound is unfamiliar enough that Ryuuku pauses to look up and attempt to deduce the reason for merriment. Raito's face gives nothing away, as impassive as ever, and Ryuuku goes back to his apples, the picture of contentment.

_Sigmund Freud,_ Raito notes, the name of some psychologist rising at the back of his mind, _Might say that the apples are really just a euphemism for --_

If Ryuuku notices his human flushing slightly darker, he has the grace not to mention it. Raito might stop bringing him apples, of course, and what then? He doesn't steal. Or at least, he doesn't need to, not with the boy supplying him with all the sweet-smelling, crimson-wrapped euphoria he needs to enjoy his life.

Raito goes back to watching, composure readjusted and poise impeccable. Vaguely, the part of him that isn't Kira _(which gets less and less, it seems sometimes)_ wonders with interest what it would feel like to be devoured so single-mindedly. Maybe his subconscious meant that metaphorically, and maybe not, but Raito frowns as the part that _is_ Kira squashes the thought immediately.

_Idiot. You've still got criminals to punish. Kira doesn't sleep, remember?_

But instead, Raito is spending his time watching Ryuuku eat apples. Somehow, he wishes...

Then Ryuuku is bent over the trash bin, shoulders heaving as seed-saturated spit clunks wetly into the metal bottom. There's a crinkle of material as the shinigami grips its edge; the bin lined with a plastic bag from the convenience store near Raito's house.

The wet, violent sound is all Raito needs to break away, though the first death he writes into the Death Note that night involves choking on an apple core. No one could say he didn't have a sense of humor.

_Notes:  
I like the idea of Ryuuku vomiting appleseeds. It's like an owl barfing pellets. :DDDDD  
I'm on crack, aren't I._


End file.
